The Angel's Heart
by PhantomRose605
Summary: A story of a young woman looking for love and adventure...she meets Erik and Jacques two charming young men who fall in love with her instantly. Her choice will not only effect her, but may help save everyone's lives... ALWKAYLEROUX PLZ REVIEW!
1. The Letter

**The Letter **

**January 20, 1885 ****  
****Dear Isabelle, ****  
****My dear friend, I am leaving London for good. My duty to my family and to the country that we both love must be fulfilled. My duty, as you may recall, has been my dream since I was a young child; I am glad that it will soon be realized. ****  
****Isabelle, please do not cry at my departure for it has been evident for so long. I also beg of you not to cry at to what I must now confess. I will miss my closest friend and companion since we were children, for I will have no one to speak to on my long journey. **

**But, my dear friend, if you do not know it by now then here it is, I _DO NOT _love you. I did at one time, but that time is almost forgotten. We were never meant to be, Isabelle, and you were never able to supply me with enough love and support to make both of us happy; my dear Catherine does that for me now. Forgive me if I was rude for that was not my intention, I only meant to tell you the truth. **

**I would also like to tell you that the reason for the end of our relationship was not _my_ fault but _YOURS!_ If it was not for...no…I cannot continue to think about such times...it is all in the past as are the precious times we shared during our childhood and our years of marriage. I am sorry that we were never meant to be. I did love you, but no more. ****  
****I am still very grateful to you, Isabelle for all that you have done for me in the past. Please accept my best regards for your health and happiness. ******

**Good-Bye and Good Luck, ****  
****David Parker ****  
**  
Isabelle looked up from the letter with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. She could hardly believe it. David had left her for her 'best friend' Catherine Smith. She had given him everything. She had abandoned her dream to be with him and this is what he does...  
She slowly rose from her bed and walked towards the window. She looked out at the city she loved with all her heart, and she remembered her few years with David. They had been married for three years; when he proposed she was only fifteen years old. He had been the most debonair man she had ever known and he was also the most kind...why had he done this? She knew the answer but she had to believe that there was another explanation…  
Her thoughts then turned back to her childhood when she had first met David and where it all began...


	2. The Angel

**The Angel's Past**

Isabelle de Lon Craie was a gay, kindhearted, and compassionate young girl. From the age of ten she was both very intelligent and very wise. She had dark, wavy hair that reached her shoulders and had the most beautiful dark, sparkling eyes anyone had ever seen. She had a round face and a beautiful tan complexion. She had the most radiant smile anyone had ever seen; many said it could melt the coldest of hearts. Her features and her cleverness never changed through the years.

Isabelle was known to many people in the neighborhood as the 'Angel'. She was so kind to all of God's Creation, especially to the street urchins and their families. She would tell them stories of places and people everyone only dreamed to meet or to go to. One of her favorite stories to tell the young ones was of the Angel of Music. Every time she spoke of him her eyes sparkled. This was a story she had created based on a dream she had and she was very proud of it.  
Sometimes she would even beg her parents for money to help the poor families. Everyone from the streets to the richest folks on the block loved Isabelle for her charity.

Isabelle's beloved parents, Christine and Daniel de Lon Craie, were of French decent and were born in France. They came to England in search of a better life for their children, Isabelle and Jeanette. They spoke very fluent English, without an accent to be heard, and they decided to teach their children French as well in order to keep the memory of their roots alive. Christine and Daniel loved their children deeply and would give anything to see the two girls smile.

Isabelle also had a younger sister named Jeanette. The two sisters were very much alike and they were also very close. No one could separate the two, even bribery would fail! They looked almost identical. Although they did have their differences; some of them were that Jeanette was more of a tomboy, had very curly hair, was three years younger than her sister, and was three inches shorter.

Like her sister, Jeanette was a kind hearted young girl although she was not as intelligent or mature as her sister. Since a very young age, she has been by her sister's side through the best of times and the worst of times. She idolized her sister very much and hoped that one day she would be as successful as she was. Jeanette also had a dream, when she grew older she wanted to become a physician; the best in all Europe.

Isabelle and Jeanette were so close that when one was away, for even an hour, the other would worry immensely, and nothing would sooth her. These sisters shared a bond that only few will share in a lifetime.

They lived contented, peaceful lives until the year of 1877. From then on nothing but terror claimed their lives…

On a beautiful summer evening, on June 28, 1877, two girls played together in their backyard. Their giggles could be heard all through the neighborhood and everyone who heard it smiled. Many knew who the two girls were and knew that they were enjoying the evening immensely. Then the girls' mother called out,

"Isabelle! Jeanette! Time to come inside! Dinner is ready!"

"Coming, Maman!" said the two girls in unison. Isabelle turned to her sister.

"Come on Netta," said she, "we can play again tomorrow."

"Oui, Bella." replied Jeanette.

The two girls then ran all back inside the house giggling all the while; their mother just smiled. Once inside the girls raced to the dining room. Once they took their places at the table their mother and father entered the room. Christine told them,

"Now mes filles, keep up your good behavior while your Papa and I are at the theater. We will be back by eleven alright, Bella?"

"Oui, Maman." replied Isabelle gaily.

"Now mes cheries, when dinner is over help Charlotte clean up and don't forget to pray before bed. Oui?"

"Oui." said the girls in unison.

"Alright then. Au revior, mes filles."

"Au revior Maman! Au revior Papa!"

The girls then kissed their parents good night and they left.

After dinner, the girls cleaned up the dining room and decided to go to bed. Just as Isabelle was tucking Jeanette in there was a knock on the door. Isabelle called Charlotte ̶ the de Lon Craie housekeeper, a woman with black hair and plain features ̶ to get it, but she remembered that Charlotte was in the library and wouldn't be able to hear her. So she went to the door herself. She took hold of the doorknob and asked; "Hello?" in reply she received a half-gasp, half-moan sound.

She quickly opened the door, as she did a young boy about her age fell to the ground. Startled, Isabelle quickly jumped back and screamed. Charlotte and Jeanette came racing down the stairs. Charlotte ran towards her and Jeanette ran towards the boy. She said, "He's barely breathing...we have to do SOMETHING!"

Finally overcoming shock, Isabelle knelt beside the boy. She gently brushed away some of his stray black hair and leaned towards him for a closer look. He was bleeding from a gash on his right cheek and he had a large bruise over his left eye. She felt his ribs and heard him cry out in pain; she knew that some of his ribs were broken. As he continued to cry out she gently placed her hand on his forehead and whispered to him softly. When he began to relax she asked him his name.

"David, David Parker." replied the boy. Isabelle smiled.

"Hello, David. I'm Isabelle and I'm here to watch over you." David then slipped into unconsciousness and left himself in the care of an angel...  
After that fateful night, Isabelle, Jeanette, and their mother nursed David to full health and learned his story. Apparently he had been attacked by a group of boys from his school. He would not give them the reason why though. He also told her of his life; he was the son of Joseph Parker, the richest man any of the de Lon Craie's had ever known.

She tried very hard to hide her surprise but David looked past it and reassured her that his father wouldn't punish her for helping him. After four days they were able to send David home to his father, who didn't really know he was gone.  
During the time the spent together, David and Isabelle had become fast friends. She believed him to be the most wonderful boy she had ever set eyes on, and her opinion of him never changed. David thought she looked like an angel...and he truly believed she was.  
Three years after David and Isabelle met; David left England to attend boarding school in Switzerland. He did not even have time to say good bye to her. She received the news in a formal, unfeeling letter two weeks later. After she read the letter Isabelle locked herself in her room for three days, and she did not eat or drink and was in serious malnutrition, but she never ceased her endless river of tears; for she had started to fall deeply in love with David. Eight weeks later tragedy struck her life once more.

It was the night of August 10, 1877, and the theater was showing _Romeo and Juliet._ The night was beautiful, stars shone brightly against the pitch black sky. At seven o'clock, Christine and Daniel left for the theater, leaving Isabelle and Jeanette behind with Charlotte. As Christine and Daniel entered the large marble building, a man shrouded in a dark blue cloak followed closely.

Christine and Daniel made their way to the front of the theater and took their seats ̶ the best in the house. At Daniel's right, sat the man who followed them ̶ he had not removed his cloak thus shrouding his features. Throughout the beginning performance, the man ceaselessly stared at the de Lon Craie couple. During the intermission, he spoke freely with Daniel about the recent news in the city. His voice hypnotized Daniel; it was both sweet and dangerous at the same time. Only when Christine touched his arm was Daniel released from the spell.

"The performance is about to begin once more, bien-aimé," remarked Christine.

"Ah! Yes, of course," replied Daniel tiredly; the effect of the hypnosis was still wearing off.

"Are you alright?" asked Christine with concern.

"Oui, mon cherie," replied Daniel cheerily. "Oui."

As the second part of the performance began, the man suddenly disappeared; Daniel and Christine took no notice. As Juliet cried, "And let me die!" and plunged the dagger into her chest, the entire theater plunged into darkness. Screams and shouts were heard everywhere. Christine rose quickly as Daniel took her arm.

"Quickly, Christine," he said; trying to keep his voice calm, "we have to get out of here!"

"Quickly, Daniel," she said; her voice strained, "to the door."

Everyone in the house ran to the only exit and entrance in the theater ̶ the back door ̶ suddenly an inferno of flames sprung up in front of it. Those closest to the flames recoiled in fear and some suffered burns. Above the noise of the crowd, a loud mocking cackle was heard. Daniel and some other men ̶ ignoring the insane laughter ̶ calmed the hysterical and frightened crowd and were able to coax them to the stage. Outside, firefighters and other citizens had arrived and were desperately trying to break down the burning door. Women and men screamed for help while Daniel and Christine clung to each other helplessly. The efforts of the firemen and others were heard outside, but everyone within knew the end was near. The fire had begun to spread quickly through out the house and was nearing the stage. In her panic, Christine began speaking in French.

"Isabelle," whispered Christine, "Jeanette…je t'aime!"

"Mon cherie," said Daniel, "They will be alright. I know they will be."

"Oui, Daniel," she whispered, "Oui."

The fire was now licking the seats in front of the stage. The actors and many people were now desperately moving to the back of the stage. Daniel and Christine turned to each other for the last time. The grasped each others hands fiercely.

"What ever happens, Christine," Daniel whispered, "I will always love you."

"I will as well, Daniel," Christine replied, "You and our girls have always been my life."

"Je t'aime, mon amour," he whispered.

"Je t'aime, mon amour," she whispered back.

Then as the fire began to consume the stage, Christine and Daniel de Lon Craie kissed and embraced for the last time on this earth. A dark blue cloak swirled above them in their last moments…

_Smoke…a blue cloak…Maman…Papa…one last kiss…fire…_

Isabelle screamed and sat upright in bed. She was breathing heavily and a cold sweat had broken out on her forehead. Charlotte rushed into the room, a candle in her hand, her hair astray and her nightgown billowing hastily behind her.

"Isabelle," she began, "are you alright, my dear?"

"Yes," said Isabelle uneasily, "Yes, I'm fine."

Charlotte sat on Isabelle's bed, placed the candle on the bedside table, and stroked the girl's hair reassuringly. Soon enough, Jeanette entered the room with another candle and sat next to her sister. She placed a comforting hand on Isabelle's hand.

"Bella, what happened?" Jeanette asked tentatively.

"Maman and Papa," Isabelle whispered, "T-they…"

"They what, Bella?" Jeanette persisted, "What happened to Maman and Papa?"

Isabelle raised her eyes which were now filled with tears. "They were k-killed, Netta. They were killed in a…fire…at the theater." Isabelle then began to sob heavily.

Jeanette felt such pain for her sister and a slight fear for the dream her sister had.

"Don't worry, Bella," Jeanette said softly, "it was only a dream."

"Oui, Netta," she turned to both Charlotte and her sister, "Just a dream…just a dream."

The next day, Jeanette and Isabelle were outside in the yard worrying. Their parents had not returned home the night before and there was a rumor of the theater burning to the ground just before midnight. Isabelle was especially worried because of her dream; now she prayed and hoped that it was not true.

Suddenly, their neighbor ̶ Madame Cordon ̶ rushed up to them in tears. Mme. Cordon was a stout, old woman with long gray hair and a warm smile; unfortunately, she was slow at understanding information others tried to tell her and she was also quite inconsiderate at times. This –amazingly ̶ was not one of those times (that she did not understand that is). The de Lon Craie girls welcomed her warmly, but were distressed when they saw her tears.

"What's wrong, Madame?" asked Isabelle concerned.

"Oh, my dears…" sobbed Mme. Cordon, "I am so sorry. It's your p-parents."

"W-what's happened?" demanded Isabelle and Jeanette fear rising in their hearts, "WHAT HAPPENED?"

"They're dead!" wailed Mme. Cordon, "They're DEAD!"

"W-what?" whispered the two girls. They looked at each other with fear. What would happen to them now? Their beloved family was torn apart…forever.

Jeanette and Isabelle quietly and politely excused themselves from Mme. Cordon's presence, and went into the house. They locked themselves in Isabelle's room ignoring the pleas for an explanation from Charlotte. The sisters then cried themselves to sleep…

After their parents' memorial service the next week, Charlotte took care of everything. The girls were put into her care and their parents' hard earned inheritance of five-hundred thousand pounds was ̶ unfortunately ̶ given to their wealthy, selfish cousin, Xavier de Lon Craie. Fortunately, Charlotte was able to find lodging with a family friend, and the girls were able to live life somewhat normally again. The girls were somber most of the time, but they found a few ways to cheer themselves up. They went on picnics in the park and strolled through the city. They bought each other gifts that always made the other smile.

One day ̶ ten weeks after the death of their parents ̶ both sisters were strolling in the park. Suddenly, it began to rain heavily; as everyone hurried for shelter, Jeanette insisted that they continue down the street. The harsh, cold wind blew leaves and rain into their frozen faces. They trudged on and on until they reached the end of the street. They opened the door of their new home and Jeanette began to cough and sneeze.

"Are you alright, Netta," Isabelle asked patting her sister on the back.

"O-oui, Bella," coughed her sister.

"Perhaps you should lie down," said Isabelle and she led her sister to her room. When Netta was safely tucked into bed, Isabelle went into the parlor and told Charlotte of her sister's condition. Charlotte wasn't too worried and promised the girl that she would see to her sister in the morning. Isabelle wasn't as sure…

Two weeks later, Isabelle and Charlotte rushed to find the local doctor. They brought him ̶ ̶Dr. Bernard ̶ to Netta. Poor Netta was in terrible condition; she struggled to breathe and she was always burning with a fever. She slipped in and out of consciousness and Isabelle was always wary of her breathing. When the doctor arrived, he immediately did tests on Jeanette. After two hours of testing, he told Isabelle that there was nothing he could do. Isabelle, with tears in her eyes, sat at the edge of her sister's bed. Charlotte had summoned the priest and he just finished giving Netta her last rites.

"I'm so sorry, Isabelle," he whispered, "We all loved her too."

Isabelle could do nothing, but nod. She was stroking her sister's hand when the priest left the room.

"Netta…" she whispered, "I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything for you. You are the greatest person in the world, mon cherie. I'm so sorry." Then she began to cry. Suddenly, she felt a movement from her sister. Jeanette turned to Isabelle and smiled weakly.

"It's not your fault, Bella," she gasped.

"Please, Netta save your strength," Bella said squeezing her sister's hand.

"I won't last much longer, Bella, you know that."

"But-"

"No "buts", Bella; there isn't anything for you to be sorry for. It wasn't anyone's fault, not yours, not Charlotte's. It was my own fault, in my own folly I brought this upon myself," She smiled once more, "Please keep that in your heart and mind, Bella, it was my fault…" with that Netta unexpectedly fell into unconsciousness once more. Isabelle contemplated her sister's words and prayed that she would be spared from this horrible fate.

A few hours later, Isabelle felt a movement from Jeanette once more. She had begun to breathe in labored gasps. Isabelle screamed for Charlotte, but she knew there was nothing that could be done. A few moments, later Jeanette opened her eyes for the last time and in her last precious moments she whispered these words to Isabelle: "Dearest sister…Bella...please don't cry...rejoice...for now three angels will watch over you...I...love...you...a-au...re-vior…" then Jeanette de Lon Craie left this world…forever…

After the death of her sister Isabelle cried and mourned often. Charlotte could find no words to console the poor child and had no choice but to stand by idly while the Angel plunged into unending grief…

As the days went on the flame that made Isabelle's dark brown eyes sparkle was extinguished, and her smile vanished. She would sit for hours in front of her window staring longingly at her house, which was only a few blocks away, where she and her family had spent playing and having picnics together.  
The Angel who had smiled so often and who so many loved no longer smiled and now felt as though she was cast into the fires of hell...to be alone forever...

**One year later... ****  
**

_Knock, Knock._

"I'm coming!" shouted Isabelle irritably. She was now fourteen years old. She had just finished school and was helping Charlotte make dinner. She wiped her hands on her apron, adjusted her dress, and opened the door. She gasped loudly; at the door was someone she thought she would never see again ̶ David Parker.

"Hello, Isabelle," he said graciously; he looked deeply into her dark brown orbs. Isabelle was speechless. How did he find her? Did he know about her parents? What in the world was he doing here?

"May I come in?" asked David tentatively when she did not respond.

"Y-yes of course!" stuttered Isabelle, finally snapping out of her daze. She stepped out of the way as David stepped into the room. He turned to her.

"So, Bella," he began nervously, "How have you been?"

"F-fine." Replied Isabelle breathlessly. She noticed how much David had changed. He was much taller now, his hair was messier than it was last time, the flame in his eyes had grown much stronger and more irresistible, and lastly, David's features had matured and become far more charming than they ever would be.

"I heard about your family," remarked David quietly. He noticed Isabelle flinch at the mention of the tragedies. All he wanted to do was hold her and never let her go.

"Yes…" said Isabelle in a barely audible whisper, "The news of their deaths were everywhere…I tried to stop it but…" She spread her arms out in front of her helplessly.

"The problem with people today," remarked David, "they have no consideration for the feelings of others…" He walked over to Isabelle and lifted her chin. He stared into her deep brown eyes.

"I never forgot about you, Isabelle," he whispered, "It may have seemed so, but I never did. How could I?"

"David…" Isabelle began trying not to give away her feelings. David cut her off.

"I thought of you everyday…" he told her his voice becoming full of emotion, "Isabelle…I love you."

Isabelle was stunned…he loved her? She just stood there stupidly in front of David. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. When she continued to stare at the floor, he sighed.

"Isabelle, I know this is so sudden," he began shakily, "but will you come to dinner with me…for old times' sake? Please?"

Isabelle looked up and immediately could not refuse his offer. His eyes were full of a pleading sadness that tore at her heart. She was still speechless, so she nodded in agreement. He then took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

"Till tomorrow then, Bella," he said as he opened the door and with a curt nod he left.

"Till tomorrow," Isabelle whispered after he had closed it, "Till tomorrow."

Isabelle and David had a wonderful time the night of May 31. David took her to the beautiful clock tower, Big Ben where they had a great time; they reminisced on the past and that brought both of them closer. After a few more months, David and Isabelle shared there first kiss; it was shy and uneasily at first, but then it became more passionate and pure.

**One year later…**

Isabelle sat at her vanity, fingering a white rose that David had given her. She smiled and recalled last night's events.

David brought her to a small restaurant near the river. He gave her the rose and they had a wonderful dinner. Around nine o' clock, David took Isabelle's hand and they walked together under the moonlight. He led her to a small meadow covered with daisies, and they sat together in the center of the field. He put his arms lovingly around Isabelle, and he felt her lean into his chest.

"I love you, Isabelle," David whispered into her ear.

"I love you too, David," Isabelle whispered in reply. She felt as though nothing would ever make her happier. Then she felt David stir and she turned to look at him. When she met his eyes she smiled ̶ he was staring at her lovingly. He took her hand once more and produced a black velvet box. He showed it to her and Isabelle's eyes widened in surprise and glee.

"Isabelle…Bella," David began shakily yet with a gleeful shine in his eyes, "Will you marry me?" He looked anxiously and expectantly at Isabelle, whose mouth was hanging open in surprise. After a few breathless moments, she was able to breathe and speak, shakily.

"Y-yes," she said breathlessly, "Yes! Whole-heartedly, YES!"

"Wonderful…" David whispered, still unable to believe what he had heard. He then opened the box and took out a beautiful gold band with two diamonds surrounding a large pearl. They both smiled as David gently placed the ring on her finger, uniting them for all eternity…

Unknown to the lovely couple, a man in a blue cloak watched them menacingly from atop the tower of Big Ben.

"It has begun…" he sneered and a wicked smile crossed his lips.

**One year later…**

"What the hell is this?"

David threw Isabelle to the floor with the letter she was writing still in his hands. He was crinkling it in fury and a deadly fire burned in his eyes.

"It's nothing," Isabelle whimpered, "It's just a letter I was sending to one of my friends, Henri. We were friends since we were children; I told him and the others stories-"

"Enough!" he screamed, "Enough of your damned lies! You've been cheating on me, haven't you? You stupid little wretch!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her violently.

"No!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, "I would never betray you, David."

"Shut up!" he said suddenly with dangerous calm, "If you ever speak to him again…I will kill you…" Then David began to mercilessly beat poor, unfortunate Isabelle.

When David finally left the room, the half-alive body of Isabelle Parker staggered agonizingly to her feet. With unsure, wobbly steps she walked to the bed, and once before it she collapsed. What she saw was blood, her blood, it ran like a small river down the white, satin sheets. After a while, she stood shakily once more and sat at her vanity to examine her wounds. She was a horrible, gruesome mess. Her hair was astray, her right eye was graced with a bruise, her lips were badly swollen, many cuts in various places on her face were bleeding, she had a few more bruises on her neck and cheeks, and when she lifted her hand; she saw that it was also covered in bruises. Her sides ached- every breath was labored and hurt immensely.

She needed a doctor but did not have the strength to find one. So she did the only thing she could, she cleaned herself up and the bloodied sheets as best she could, and lay in the bed she and David had shared for one wonderful, peaceful year. She felt cold tears of anger, sadness, and hate well up in her eyes and slowly begin to run down her cheeks.

"Why David?" she whispered sadly to the darkness around her, "Why would you not trust me? I love you…only you." She then fell into a restless slumber filled with troubled dreams of fire, murders, and dark blue cloaks…

The next day, Isabelle found David sitting in the parlor reading the local newspaper. She quietly stepped into the room and he looked up.

"Yes?" he asked sarcastically.

"I just wanted to say good morning," whispered Isabelle uncertainly.

"Well, then good morning to you, my dear," he whispered back icily. He then turned back to his paper and absentmindedly handed Isabelle a section. She took it without question; she no longer had the will to fight. She sat in a chair in the corner of the room and began to read. When she reached a certain section, she gasped loudly. The article was about her friend, Henri…he was dead. His body was found in the meadow ̶ the same one David had taken Isabelle to when he proposed ̶ totally mutilated. She looked up in horror and saw the smirk cross David's once handsome lips; now Isabelle thought them ugly and gruesome. Isabelle Parker hated her husband for what he had done; she knew he killed Henri.

For the next few weeks, Isabelle did as much as she could for Henri's poor family. He had left behind five children and a young, frantic wife. When David learned of her charity, he beat her again but not as harshly. Soon enough he stopped, but only because of Catherine. The day David met Isabelle's friend, Catherine Smith, he changed. He lusted for her; Isabelle could see it in his eyes, for she was a beautiful woman. Pale white skin, ruby red lips, sapphire blue eyes, and a sly smile. Unfortunately, Isabelle paid no attention to the actions of Catherine and David; that mistake would soon catch up with her.

Isabelle discovered that David and Catherine….were in an affair when David did not return home for many days. She searched the mail and found a shocking postcard from Catherine, telling him to meet her at midnight on April 28 at the tower. It continued to say that they would get away, away from "the boring nun" (as Catherine had dubbed Isabelle). It seemed that David had happily agreed. He left one morning, without an explanation, only giving her a hasty, unfeeling kiss.

When David returned from that trip four days later, he showed her divorce papers and happily and rudely told her everything that occurred between Catherine and himself. He then gathered up his belongings and left…forever…

Isabelle was then forced to find a new home. This was when she met a few kind strangers that helped her find a new home. She had barely any money and did odd jobs to put bread on her table. Although David had wounded her heart, she still loved him more than life itself…


	3. A Dear Friend

**A Friendly Visit **

As these memories flooded her mind, Isabelle's eyes flooded with tears. When her thoughts drifted to the hardest part of her thirteen years she fell to her knees and cried. She was all alone in the world. She could hardly stand it, and she vowed at this moment to never love again. If she was intended to live alone forever...she would...

After a few minutes, Isabelle walked towards the small piano forte in her room. Ever since her sister died she had turned to music. The stories of the Angel she always told comforted her now. She had told of the Angel visiting those in need and she believed that he would come...and save her. Her mind told her that this was some childish fantasy and she would soon over come it, but her heart told her otherwise...  
She sat down at the forte and began to play a song she composed herself. After a while she began to sing too. 

**_Like the sound of silence calling,_**

**_I hear your voice and suddenly I'm falling._**

**_Lost in a dream…_**

**_Like the echoes of our souls are meeting..._**

**_You say those words and my heart stops beating._**

**_I wonder what it means..._**

**_What could it be…that comes over me. _**

**_At times I can't move..._**

**_at times I can hardly breathe... _****_  
_****_When you say you love me the world goes still..._**

**_so still inside an-_ ******

There was a knock at the door. Isabelle stood up straightened her pale pink dress and walked to the door. When she opened it she saw her friend Elizabeth Darcy at the door. Elizabeth and Isabelle had met two months ago while window shopping and had become very close quite fast. Elizabeth Darcy had dark brown hair put in ringlets, a smooth complexion, was about Isabelle's height, and was just two years older than her.  
"Hello Lizzy! Please come in." said Isabelle.

"Thank you, Bella." replied Elizabeth, "How are you?" Isabelle paused before she spoke.

"I-I'm doing alright." She forced a smile, but Elizabeth could see through it.

"Bella, you have to move on...that's what Netta and your parents would have

wanted."

"I know Lizzy, but...it's so hard...and that's not the only problem I'm facing at the

present...this...c-came...f-from D-D-David...earlier this m-morning." She handed

Elizabeth the letter and began to cry. When Elizabeth finished she muttered under her breath, "Insufferable man!" She then looked at the tear-stained face of poor Isabelle.

"Oh Bella!" said Elizabeth who had now put her arms around her friend and was rocking her gently.

"Oh angel...you do not deserve this...shh...it will be alright...you will find another."

At that Isabelle broke the embrace and looked into her eyes. With a mixture of sadness, anger, and confidence in her voice; she said,

"No! I will never love again...I don't think I can go through this once more. No, Lizzy, I will not." Elizabeth's eyes softened and in a gentle tone she said,

"But dearest Bella, you must move on...why not go to Paris? I know you've always wanted to go...and besides...you may be able to finally become an attorney."

"Yes...but what about you? I may not even see you again." Isabelle had abandoned this dream ̶ the dream that she would become the greatest attorney in all Europe ̶ when she married David, for they were always tight on money and needed to focus on ways to earn some.

"Oh Bella, of course you will see me again!" replied Lizzy, "Don't you remember?

Mr. Darcy and I have a summer house in Paris...near the old Opera House. I will be able to see you everyday when we decide to visit."

Isabelle could only offer a small smile. Elizabeth had been the only friend she had made after her sister's death; Elizabeth was one of the greatest. She did not want to leave London because she believed…no hoped...that David would return to her. But she knew that Lizzy was right. She had to move on; she could not live a life of depression forever.  
"Well Lizzy...I will think about it and I will tell you my answer soon." said Isabelle grasping Lizzy's hands. "But...alright...if that's all that I can do...then I will speak to you soon." replied Lizzy, giving Isabelle's hands a gentle squeeze. The two then gave each other small smiles and stood up.

"Well I'd better go then." said Elizabeth. Isabelle gave her a smile and a hug.

"Good-bye then Bella."

"Good-bye Lizzy."  
After Elizabeth left, Isabelle sat down at the forte once more. She took a deep breath and began a new song.

**_Child of the wilderness,_**

**_born into emptiness,_**

**_learn to be lonely. _****_  
_****_Learn to find your way in darkness._**

**_Who will be there for you? _****_  
_****_Comfort and care for you?_**

**_Learn to be lonely,_**

**_Learn to be your one companion. _****_  
_****_Never dreamed out in the world..._**

**_there are arms to hold you. _**

**_You've always known your heart was on its own._**

**_So laugh in your loneliness,_**

**_child of the wilderness._**

**_Learn to be lonely..._**

**_learn how to love life that is live alone. _****_  
_****_Learn to be lonely..._**

**_life can be lived..._**

**_life can be loved..._**

**_alone..._ ****  
**  
At the end of the song, Isabelle began to cry for the song was true! She was all alone...she would live her life alone...forever...there was no one out there like her...no one out there...  
Little did Isabelle know that her luck was about to change…


	4. The Man in the Mask

**The Man in the Mask**

**Paris, France 1885**

A dark figure walked silently through the remains of the Opera Populaire. After the incident, all that was left of the majestic building was the burnt, ash covered stage, and a small ash-covered section of the house area. All of the chairs in the house were burned and some were even crushed. The figure looked sadly at the charred remains, but kept walking along. The figure made its way to the stage and stepped into the light. What was revealed was a man dressed in black with a white mask covering his face.  
Once he stepped into the light, he stared sadly at Box Five remembering all of the beautiful performances he had seen of his beloved Angel of Music. From the folds of his cloak he took out a red rose with a black ribbon tied to the center. He had given many roses such as this one to his Angel, but this was special. Along with the ribbon he had tied a beautiful sapphire ring. This was the most precious thing he owned; and in a soft, sad tone he began to sing,

**_You alone can make my song take flight... _****_  
_****_ Christine...I love you..._ ****  
**  
The man then began to sob quietly behind the mask. He whispered,

"Christine, you do not know how much I love you...you do not know how much pain you have caused the Angel of Music...no...I am not an angel...I am and forever will be, Erik...who is to be alone...forever..."  
Erik held the precious rose to his heart and continued his walk around the remains. He walked behind the torn, ash covered curtain until he reached a small flight of black, curling stairs. He slowly climbed the stairs and when he reached the top he paused.

"Why must I always relive my memories?" he thought.

He stayed rooted to the spot for another ten minutes and he decided to continue. When he reached the door to the roof, he opened it and stepped into the cool air and snow. He looked out at the city he loved, but which he also bitterly despised. He lifted the young bloom slowly and tenderly to his face.

"Christine..." he whispered her name so tenderly...it made the heart ache. His eyes slowly traveled to the ring. He looked at it with sadness and love as his eyes filled with tears, and as they began to fall beneath his mask...Erik felt so alone...


	5. Decisions and Dreams

**Decisions and Dreams**

As she closed the lid of the piano forte, Isabelle made her decision. Grabbing her cloak from her chair, she made her way to Pemberly manor. It was time to pay Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy a long delayed visit.

She knocked at the door. Elizabeth's maid, Rita, answered.

"Hello, Miss." said Rita, "Mrs. Darcy and Mr. Darcy are in the drawing room...they will be happy to see you."

"Thank you, Rita." replied Isabelle. She made here way to the drawing room and knocked on the door softly.

"Come in!" said Elizabeth and Darcy in unison. Isabelle entered and set her cloak down on a chair.

"Bella! It's so good to see you." said Darcy.

"I'm so glad you came, Bella!" cried Lizzy.

Lizzy walked towards Isabelle and embraced her; while Darcy gave her a curt nod. Isabelle returned the embrace and the nod.

"So Bella why are you here?" asked Darcy with surprise, "I did not expect to see you until next week."

"Is it about moving to Paris?" asked Lizzy excitedly.

"Yes...it is..." said Isabelle with a small smile, "I think it is time for me to move on...it is what Netta, Maman, and Papa would have wanted; besides, I want to become an attorney..." she trailed off. Darcy and Lizzy glanced at each other.

"This is a big step, Bella, are you sure you want to do this?" asked Darcy.

"Yes, I do." replied Isabelle with confidence, "I do."

Darcy and Lizzy nodded to each other and the deal was settled.  
"When would you like to leave Bella?" asked Lizzy.

"As soon as possible...I do not have many things to pack anyway." replied Isabelle confidently; giving both of them a sad smile.

"Alright then. I will make all of the arrangements. Why don't you and Bella go to her house and pack, Lizzy?" offered Darcy.

"Would you like the help, Bella?" asked Lizzy.

"Yes, I would thank you." replied Isabelle with a cheerful voice.

"Then let's get going." said Lizzy retrieving her coat.

Isabelle and Lizzy returned to Isabelle's home and began to pack. The two women packed in silence, and when they were almost finished Isabelle uttered a sigh and sat on the bed.

"What's wrong, Bella?" asked Lizzy also taking a seat.

"I just cannot believe I'm leaving...I've grown up here and it's very...h-hard to l-leave..." at that Isabelle began to sob.

"Oh Bella! Don't cry...you will have a better life in Paris! Oh angel...please don't cry!" Lizzy had begun to cry as well. She cried for the sad life her friend had been through. Lizzy held Isabelle for a few more moments rocking her gently.

"I-I'm alright now, dearest Lizzy." said Isabelle.

"Are you sure?" asked Lizzy.

"Yes, my friend."

"Good."   
After they finished, Lizzy left Isabelle and returned home to Pemberly. Isabelle then looked at her packed bags and sighed. "It was coming sooner or later." she thought.

She then changed into her cream colored nightgown and went to bed. She lay for a while thinking...about her life...

"I must stop this. I must move on. Even if I must live my life...alone...I can still make the best of it." she thought sadly.

Finally after an hour of reassuring herself, Isabelle drifted into a peaceful slumber...

_"Bella! Bella! Bella…" _

_Isabelle woke with a start into complete darkness. After her eyes became focused to the dark, she stood up. _

_"Who was calling to me?" she thought. _

_"Bella...Bella..." cried a voice. _

_"That sounds like...Netta!" thought she, "Netta! Is that you, mon cherie?" asked Isabelle._

_Silence. _

_"NETTA!" screamed Isabelle she began to run towards where she heard the voice. _

_Suddenly the scenery changed into a vast area full of red velvet lined chairs. _

"_This must be the house area, where people watch the plays and operas. At least that's what Maman and Papa told me," she thought looking around the room. Then memories of her beloved parents flooded her mind. _

"_Oh…M-Maman….P-Papa…" then she fell to her knees & began to weep. _

_Then a voice filled the air it sang,_

**_Wandering child so lost…so helpless yearning for my guidance…_**

_Isabelle looked up. She was stunned that was the most beautiful voice she had ever heard. It was a mixture of sadness, longing, anger, and something she couldn't quite understand. She felt as if she was in the presence of an angel. The sound of the voice touched her heart, it intoxicated her; she needed to know who was singing. After a few moments she stood up, dried her tears, and sang,_

**_Who is out there? Please answer me. I am longing for a companion…_**

_Silence. Isabelle frantically looked about the house. She began again,_

**_Please! Who is out there? I am so lonely…_**

_Silence. Isabelle kept searching._

"_Please! I need to know who you are!" cried Isabelle. _

"_Bella…" came a voice. _

"_Netta?" asked Isabelle; she stood up. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Jeanette appeared from behind a chair. _

"_Yes, Bella." replied Netta. _

"_N-Netta?" asked Isabelle, "Is th-that y-you mon cherie?" Jeanette slowly walked towards her sister. "Yes, Bella! It's me." _

_She was dressed in a blue lace dress, and was at the same age she was when her life came to an end; but the way she spoke was as if she was at the age of fifteen…the age she would be at the present. _

"_Oh Netta!" cried Isabelle. She ran forward and embraced her sister; holding her as if she would never let go. _

"_Oh, Netta! I have missed you so much!" sobbed Isabelle. _

"_And so have I." replied Netta. She gave her sister a smile and released her sister. _

"_But mon ange, that is not why I have returned." _

"_Then what is the reason, Netta?" asked Isabelle, "I don't understand what's happening…I heard a voice…the voice of an angel. Just like the Angel of Music's…do you remember, dear?" _

"_Yes, sister. I do remember." replied Netta with a note of concern in her voice, "And that will_

_be revealed all in good time, but we must discuss your future." _

_At that moment from behind a curtain emerged their parents, Christine and Daniel de Lon Craie. _

"_Bonjour ma petite!" said her mother. _

"_Bonjour, mon cherie." said her father. _

_Isabelle smiled as tears filled her eyes. She could hardly believe it! Her family was together again..._

_Isabelle ran towards her mother and pulled her into an embrace. Christine kissed her daughter's forehead and whispered, "Mon ange…my angel." Then her father gently pulled her mother away. "What about me?" he teased. Isabelle walked into her father's arms and began to cry…it was so real! _

"_P-Papa…" she sobbed. _

"_There, there mon cherie," said Daniel, "Everything will be alright…don't cry…" He stroked his daughter's hair lovingly while Jeanette moved to Christine. _

"_Maman," she whispered, "We must talk to her now…we don't have much time." _

"_Yes, mon petite," replied Christine; to her husband she said, "Daniel, we must tell her now." Isabelle broke away from her father's embrace. _

"_What do you need to tell me?" she asked anxiously. Daniel went to stand by the rest of his family. _

"_Isabelle why don't you sit down," said Christine. _

_At that moment the scenery changed once again into a cave. In this cave there were candles all around…_


	6. Erik's Dream

**Erik's Dream**

Erik finally returned to his lair with a heavy heart. He set his cloak down on a chair and walked towards his organ. He stopped before he reached the seat. He still held the rose close to him and he looked at it once more. His eyes filled with tears but he held them back.

He slowly sat down on the bench of the organ and continued to stare lovingly at the rose. He then gently placed it on top of the organ, upon some stray music sheets. Erik slowly took off his black leather gloves and begins to play. The sound of his organ comforts him and he lets the music fill his heart, his mind, and his fragile soul. He belonged only to the music. Soon enough he begins to play a song that brings back so many memories to him…a song that he believed he would never, ever sing again…

**_Nighttime sharpens. Heightens each sensation._**

**_Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination…_**

**_Silently the senses abandon their defenses._**

**_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor._**

**_Grasp it, sense it tremulous and tender._**

**_Turn your face away from the garish light of day!_**

**_Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light…_**

**_And listen to the music of the night…_**

**_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!_**

**_Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!_**

**_Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar!_**

**_And you'll live as you've never lived before…_**

**_Softly, deftly music shall caress you…_**

**_Hear it, feel it secretly possess you._**

**_Open up your mind let your fantasies unwind…_**

**_In this darkness that you know you cannot fight…_**

**_The darkness of the music of the night!_**

**_Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world!_**

**_Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!_**

**_Let your soul take you where you long to be!_**

**_Only then can you belong to me!_**

**_Floating, falling sweet intoxication!_**

**_Touch me trust me! Savor each sensation…._**

**_Let the dream begin…let your darker side give in…_**

**_To the power of the music that I write…_**

**_The power of the music of the night!_**

**_You alone can make my song take flight…._**

**_Help me make the music of the night…_**

Once the song had reached the end…Erik sighed. He looked at the rose sitting on his organ. He sighed again.

"I must move on," he thought, "But I cannot…" he shook his head sadly. Absentmindedly he rose from the organ, took the rose, and walked to his room. He took off his black jacket and gold vest, and then ever so gently he removed his white mask. He stared at it for a moment then lay on his bed. He brought the rose to his heart and tried to fall asleep, but to no avail. He could not stop thinking about her.

"Oh Christine…" he thought, "I must move on…but there will be no one like you." He sighed. "But I must…"

His thoughts then turned to the remains of _his_ beautiful Opera House. For ten minutes he contemplated…then it came to him.

"I will rebuild the Opera!" he cried. "It will be perfect! It will be better than the last…"

After making plans for the construction…Erik's thoughts finally turned to sleep…with his last thought he drifted into slumber…

_Erik suddenly woke in a room filled with velvet lined chairs. He sat up, quite confused. He raised his hand to his cheek. He was surprised to not feel the mask on his face. He turned to a small mirror on the wall beside him. He gasped…before him he saw his horrible, monstrous, corpse-like face staring back. He suppressed a cry of rage and surprise._

"_Where am I?" he thought in utter amazement and suppressed rage. He stood up and began to walk through the endless rows of red velvet chairs._

_"This…resembles the house before the chandelier incident. B-But…h-how?" he could hardly believe what he was seeing; his anger had subsided. He continued walk, taking in the sight…even his box ̶ Box Five ̶ was there. _

"_This is beautiful…" he thought. He stopped suddenly in surprise. What he saw stunned him… _

_Before him ̶ a few rows away ̶ there was a girl. She was on her knees crying. For a few moments he could only see her outline; so he moved closer. When he saw her his heart stopped. She had dark brown, wavy hair that fell across her elegant shoulders. She had a smooth, tan complexion, and she had beautiful, dark brown, sparkling eyes. She was wearing a cream colored nightgown that outlined her slim figure well. _

"_She's beautiful…" he thought, "Just like an angel…" His heart began to work once again, hammering in his chest as his throat went dry. He started to walk towards her ̶ then he stopped. _

"_No!" he thought bringing himself to look at a chair, "I will not do this…I…she…no! I will just cause her pain, and she will cause me pain as well…" He slowly turned his eyes to her once again. _

"_But I must comfort her…the poor girl seems so sad," he said to himself. He contemplated the reason for her tears. Then a different thought struck him. _

"_She is just…like me…" _

_At this revelation he started to stare at her in surprise. After a few moments he finally emerged from his daze. Then he began to sing in the sweetest voice ever heard._

**_Wandering child…so lost….so helpless. Yearning for my guidance…_**

_He saw her lift her head and begin to look around. He hid behind a curtain so that she would not see him. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see a girl, at about ten years of age, dressed in a blue lace dress. Shocked, he was about to jump back but the girl took hold of his arm. _

"_Silence, Monsieur!" said the girl putting a finger to her lips, "Si'l vous plait," she hastily added. _

_Erik just nodded, surprised that she spoke his native language. "She looks like the girl I had seen…" _

_The girl then took him by the hand ̶ his cold, long skeletal fingers closing around hers ̶ and led him towards a door. _

"_Comment t'appelles tu?" asked Erik, amazed that the girl did not care about his touch nor his face, "What's your name?" The girl turned and looked at him kindly. _

"_Je m'appelle Jeanette de Lon Craie, Monsieur," she replied, "My name is Jeanette de Lon Craie." She smiled and Erik returned it gladly. _

"_Where are you taking me?" he demanded. _

"_You will see…" was all she said. They kept walking until the scenery changed once more ̶ they were in Box Five. _

"_M-My box…" whispered Erik. Jeanette smiled. _

"_Yes, Monsieur Fantôme. I have brought you here for a very important reason,_

_Monsieur." Erik looked at her in shock. How did she know his title? _

"_What is it?" he asked looking confused. _

"_Before I answer, Monsieur, may I introduce my parents?" she asked, "Christine and Daniel de Lon Craie." _

_They stepped forward from the shadows. When Erik heard the name "Christine" he flinched; Jeanette laid a kind hand on his arm and gave him a smile to calm him. He was comforted and relief filled him when he saw that 'Christine' was not…his Angel. He gave both of them a bow. _

"_Enchante, Monsieur Erik," said Christine and Daniel. _

"_H-How did you know my name?" asked Erik surprised. He did not recall ever mentioning it. _

"_We know many things, Monsieur." replied Jeanette, "We know all about you." Erik looked at her in surprise. _

"_B-But how?" he stammered. _

"_Do not worry about that, Monsieur." replied Christine smiling at his surprise. _

"_Monsieur, we know that you are lonely and longing for one to love…and for them to love you in return." said Daniel slowly. _

_Erik could only nod. "How do they know this much about me?" he thought anxiously, "I wonder if they know about Christine…" _

"_Oui, Monsieur Fantôme," said Jeanette, "We do know about Madame De Chagny…and the pain she has caused you." _

_Madame de Chagny….Erik flinched and stared at the floor as tears filled his eyes…of course! Christine and Raoul would be married by now. Jeanette laid her hand on his arm. _

"_Don't cry, Monsieur." she said in a soothing voice. Erik smiled sadly…no one had ever been this kind to him before. _

"_We also know that you feel alone in the world, Monsieur," said Christine gently as she placed a hand on his other arm. _

"_We know of one just as lonely as you." said Daniel._

_At that moment Christine, Daniel, and Jeanette turned to look at the girl in the house below. Erik followed their eyes not understanding. The girl in the house was now singing and crying out for the one who sang to her…Erik… He opened his mouth to reply, but when he heard her voice his heart stopped. _

_"Her voice…I've never heard a voice like that in my entire life," he thought with awe and adulation, "It's perfect…like an angel's…" _

_Finally overcoming his emotion he asked, "Who is this person? Will I meet them?" he asked anxiously. Christine, Jeanette, and Daniel turned to face him. _

"_Not at the present, Monsieur," replied Jeanette anxiously. _

"_But you may or may never meet…" whispered Christine icily. Erik stared at her. _

"_WHY?" he demanded; it was evident that his temper was rising. "Why should I be _

_denied one who understands me?" he thought angrily. Daniel turned to him with a burning look. _

"_Because you still love Madame de Chagny." he said harshly. _

_Erik was taken aback…what would loving Christine Daae have to do with this? He glared angrily at Daniel, then at a velvet covered seat. _

"_You must let her go, Erik," continued Daniel in a much gentler tone, "If you do not…meeting the one you are truly destined for will be impossible." _

"_What?" Erik's whisper was barely audible. His anger had departed as quickly as it had come. _

_He could not believe it. Did this mean…that there _was_ one who would love him in this world? _

_He lifted his eyes to Daniel, Christine, and Jeanette once more._

"_Is that girl in the house area-" he hesitated. What if he was proven wrong? Then what would he do? He took a deep breath and began again. _

"_I-Is that girl in the house area…the one I am truly de-" he could not bring himself to say the rest. So Jeanette finished for him._

"_The one you are truly destined for?" she asked her eyes filled with understanding. Erik nodded._

"_Well, Monsieur Fantôme," she continued, "That is for only for you to decide…"_

_"After all," continued Christine, "None of us can choose who we will love…"_

_"Or where it will occur," finished Daniel. He gave Erik a gentle smile._

_At that moment the scenery changed to reveal Erik's lair. He looked around in surprise. Everything was the same, but also quite different. As he continued to survey the area something caught his eye. He was at his organ playing a song he did not recognize. A girl in a beautiful red corset dress emerged from the guest room._

_"She looks familiar.." he thought, "And she's very beautiful." She closed the door silently and slowly approached the organ. Erik could now see her features more clearly. _

_"I-It's t-the girl f-from e-earlier…" he stuttered. His eyes widened in shock. _

_"Yes, Monsieur," replied Christine calmly. Erik turned sharply and stared at her in surprise. He had forgotten that the de Lon Craie family was with him._

_Erik then returned his attention to the girl. She was now right behind the Erik playing the organ. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and the beautiful music stopped. He saw as Erik relaxed, and leaned lovingly to her feather-like touch. He saw both of them smile as he reached for her hand._

_As he looked on, Erik seemed to have entered a daze. She was being so kind to him...she even seemed as though she loved him. At that moment he wanted to meet her more than ever. As Daniel placed a hand on his shoulder, Erik finally came to his senses. _

_"I'm sorry, Monsieur," said Daniel, "But it is time for the three of us to leave."_

_"No! You cannot leave me yet," exclaimed Erik in alarm, "You must tell me who that girl is!" He had a pleading look in his grayish-blue eyes._

_"No, Monsieur," intervened Jeanette kindly, "That is for you to soon discover…"_

_"It was a pleasure meeting you, Monsieur Erik," said Christine with a gentle look in her eyes. She then leaned forward and planted a feather light kiss on his cheek, and Jeanette did the same. Erik gave them both a look of utter shock and happiness. No woman had _ever_ kissed him of her own accord before…except Christine. Seeing the look in his eyes the two ladies just smiled. Then Daniel shook his hand warmly._

"_I hope you will soon discover the one you are truly destined for, Erik." he said. After a moment Erik finally looked upon his three new-found friends at last. He took a deep breath and gave a small teary smile._

_"Thank you so much for all that you have done," he replied sadly, "This may be the first step…" he trailed off. His three companions smiled._

_Then Christine, Jeanette, and Daniel de Lon Craie disappeared in a flash of white light…_

As the white light subsided Erik awoke with a start. As his eyes began to focus the tinkling of the music box by his bed reminded him of where he was. He sat up and the rose fell on his lap. He sighed…soon everything would change…

He picked up his green silk robe a chair, put on his mask, and walked towards the organ. His fingers caressed the keyboard lovingly and he began to play…


	7. Ending a Perfect Dream

**Ending a Perfect Dream**

_The cave was filled with candles and their faint glow, gave the room a mysterious, yet very romantic feeling. Isabelle continued to take in the awesome sight before her when she spied the organ...and the man sitting in front of it. He was playing an interesting song; she could feel passion, hate, and anger flowing through every note. She did not turn away, but closed her eyes and listened intently to the music. When this man played she felt as if she was flying through the bars of the music…every note that he played was full of emotion._

_When the last note of the piece faded away Isabelle slowly opened her eyes, and began to stare at the man with awe and admiration. The man had put his head in his hands. His shoulders began to shake, and Isabelle knew that he was sobbing. She felt such pity for him…and her heart had begun to make a strange fluttering movement in her chest. She instinctively began walking towards him; as she got closer to the bench, Christine placed a firm hand on her shoulder. Isabelle jumped up in alarm._

_"Not now, mon ange," said her mother, "He needs some time alone." Isabelle nodded hastily. In her daze, she had forgotten that her family was with her. Noticing her surprise, Christine draped a comforting arm around her daughter's shoulders and gave her a light kiss on the cheek._

_"I'm sorry, mon cherie," she said. Isabelle just embraced her mother tightly in return. Jeanette and Daniel came up quietly behind them._

_"So Bella," said Jeanette pulling on her sister's nightgown, "Do you like him?"_

_"Netta!" said Daniel and Christine in unison. Both shocked at the carelessness of the question. Jeanette just shrugged her shoulders, smiled, and glanced up at her sister. Isabelle was staring at the man with the most intent look they had ever seen her give. She had the strangest urge to touch him right there. So she reached out a trembling hand towards him and just before it reached his shoulder she was interrupted._

_"NON, BELLA!" cried Jeanette; she jumped in front of her sister's outstretched hand. As she did so her back hit the man; he did not feel a thing. Seeing this Isabelle broke away from her mother's embrace and glared at her sister._

_"Why shouldn't I touch him?" she demanded angrily, "You just touched him and he did not feel a thing!" Isabelle's breathing had become heavier as she tried to control her rising anger._

_"You should not touch him because…"Jeanette sighed heavily._

_"WHY?" demanded Isabelle._

_"Because, he can feel _ your _touch…even when he can't feel mine," said Jeanette._

_"W-What?" asked Isabelle slowly. If he couldn't feel Jeanette's touch then why could he feel hers?_

_"Because, mon cherie," said Daniel taking her hand, "You are still living unlike us," he glanced at the rest of his family, "And because you had succumbed to his music…" Isabelle looked at her father puzzled. _

_"How is that possible?" she thought stupidly, "How in the world is that possible?"_

_As she continued to stare at her family she suddenly realized the meaning to all of this. When she heard how he played she lost herself in his spell. She had never succumbed to anyone like that before…_

_She lifted her gaze to her family and then turned it toward the man. _

_"Is that why?" she thought anxiously. They nodded. The man then made a movement to rise and Isabelle stepped back. His back was to her as he picked up a rose and stroked the petals lovingly. She heard him say,_

_"I loved her…oh Christine…"_

_At the word 'loved' Isabelle's heart sank. He already loved another. When she heard the name 'Christine' her eyes filled with tears of rage and confusion. This man was in love with her mother? She quickly chased the thought away. _

_"Why am I always denied…" Isabelle could not go on. The tears had begun to flow once again. Jeanette walked up to her sister and put her arms around her waist. Isabelle glanced at her sister and gave her a hug in return. At that moment the man turned around and Isabelle could finally see him. Her eyes widened at what she saw._

_He had a white mask over his entire face but behind it she could see his grayish blue eyes. Isabelle lost herself in those eyes; they burned with emotion. She felt as if she needed his gaze to survive. She could see years of cruelty and hate in them; yet she also saw love of the purest kind etched in them as well. Those eyes also seemed to hold a fierce mysterious fire that captivated her. She wanted to take away all of the pain he had…she wanted to make him happy. Her heart fluttered faster as she continued to stare deeply into those eyes; they would forever remind her of the sea on a stormy day…_

_Absentmindedly, she reached out a hand to touch his mask, but then she remembered that he would be able to feel her touch. He turned away from her and began to walk towards a desk littered with papers. She followed him and picked up a few along the way. She looked at them and her eyes widened in awe. These were not sketches of her mother, but of a different young woman. These were the most beautiful sketches she had ever seen in her life. _

_She felt a pang of jealousy as she continued to look through the sketches. She could see why this man had fallen in love with her; she was very beautiful perfect eyes, glossy dark brown hair, pale pink complexion, and she had the most beautiful lips Isabelle had ever seen. Her eyes filled with tears as she realized that she could never be as beautiful as Christine._

_Isabelle raised her eyes to look at the man once more. He was sitting at the desk writing furiously. She approached him cautiously and looked over his shoulder. She could see that they were plans to build a building of some sort. She was amazed at what she saw. The sketches were flawless, every proportion was perfect._

"_He's a genius!" she thought excitedly. At that moment her mother came up behind her._

"_Come away, Bella," she said gently, "It is time for us to leave." Isabelle looked at her mother in alarm._

"_B-But Maman," she said pleadingly, "I must know more of him."_

"_You will know more soon, mon cherie, but now we must go." Isabelle took one last look at the man and turned once again to her mother._

"_Alright Maman," she said sadly, "Let's go."_

_Christine draped an arm around her daughter's shoulders and the scenery changed once again. The de Lon Craie family was now standing in Isabelle's bedroom. Daniel and Jeanette were now standing next to Christine. All four of them were silent, and after a few moments Christine walked toward her eldest daughter and embraced her warmly._

"_Mon ange," she began sadly, "W-We h-have to leave now."_

"_WHAT!" cried Isabelle in alarm, "You c-can't leave! Not yet!" Isabelle squeezed her mother tightly as she began to sob. Her father walked over to his wife and daughter._

"_Oui, mon ange," whispered Daniel gently, "We have to, dearest Isabelle."_

"_Non, non, non, non…" sobbed Isabelle, "Non! I need a-all o-o-f you here!" Jeanette then came over to her parents and sister. Her mother let her embrace her sister._

_"Bella, it will be alright," Jeanette whispered tearfully, "We will live on in your heart."_

"_Non, Netta…non," Isabelle sobbed harder, "Please don't leave me!"_

"_We must, darling, we must!" sobbed Netta she was now holding her sister like she would never let go. The de Lon Craie family stood silent for a few moments. Each member was thinking about the happy times they shared and the future they would all experience. Isabelle finally broke the silence._

"_Please remember me," her voice was barely audible, "Beloved Maman, Beloved Papa, and dearest, dearest Jeanette, never forget me!" Her mother, father, and sister put their arms around their angel._

"_We will never forget you, mon ange," Christine was sobbing as well._

"_Please remember us too," said Daniel sadly, tears were slowly running down his cheeks._

"_I'll always remember you," said Isabelle raising her head, "Je t'aime, Maman, Papa, and Jeanette."_

"_Je t'aime, Isabelle." said her family in unison. The de Lon Craie family embraced one last time and in a flash of white light Christine, Daniel, and Jeanette de Lon Craie disappeared…_

Isabelle woke with a start. She walked to her vanity and saw that her dark brown eyes were red. She also saw that her hair was astray.

"Oh! Now what will I do?" she asked herself.

Her eyes then turned to her piano forte, and she remembered her dream. In her mind's eye she saw the man in the mask, she could she his grayish blue eyes staring right back at her. Her heart began to flutter in her chest, and her breathing became heavier. She hastily turned back to her mirror, and she saw herself blushing fiercely. The redness of her eyes had disappeared and in their place there was a shine that she had not seen in a long time…


	8. Erik's Past

**Erik's Past**

Erik's pen stopped in midair and he turned round in his chair. His eyes darted quickly around his lair.

"What in the world was that?" he thought anxiously. "I thought I heard…" He shook his head.

"No…I must be dreaming," he thought with relief, "I must be dreaming…" He turned back to his sketches. He smiled with satisfaction and began to flip through them.

"This will be better than the last Opera," he muttered with happiness, "Even Garnier will never build one to match this."

He gently placed each sketch in a leather folder and when he was finished he returned to his organ. His fingers gently caressed each key and he raised his eyes to the rose. As he gazed upon the rose his thoughts turned to the girl in his dreams. He could picture her delicate figure kneeling on the floor of the house. As she came to his mind's eye, his heart felt a pang. He wanted to take away all of her pain…

He stood up and removed his green robe, placing it on a chair. As he made his way back to the bedroom, he laughed.

"How long has it been since I have heard an opera?" he thought in amusement, "I do miss the singing…even if many prima donnas are absolute toads!"

He picked up his gold silk vest and fingered the designs carefully. His thoughts then turned to loyal, beloved Madame Antoinette Giry. He was very grateful to the old, kind woman who helped him when he first made his presence known at the Opera.

"She was the only person kind to me…besides Nadir and Christine," he thought sadly, "At least they only people who were kind to me…out of both pity and care…not fear like Mademoiselle Larian."

He then put on the vest and picked up his black velvet jacket. As he put it around his shoulders he closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and remembered his mother, and his lonely, hard childhood. He had never shared his past with anyone before…not even Christine Daae, his Angel of Music and the love of his life.

**June 5, 1860**

"Get away from me, you wicked, horrible child!"

A young boy ran to his room and slammed and bolted the door. The boy wore a white mask over his face and a black dress suit. He was only six years old, but he was wiser and more intelligent than any scholar of his time.

The poor boy raised a trembling hand to his mask and gently took it off. As the mask fell to the ground, the boy's face was revealed. His face was horribly, horribly deformed. His entire skull was exposed beneath a thin, transparent membrane that was grotesquely riddled with fading, pulsing blue veins. His gray-blue eyes were sunken into their sockets and he had grossly malformed lips, and where his nose should have been, there was a large gaping hole. The mask, being too tight, had rubbed many places on his face raw. The boy put his face in his hands and began to sob.

"W-Why is M-Mama b-being so c-cruel?" he sobbed.

With effort he walked unsteadily to his cot. He sat down heavily and picked up his coarse, ragged pillow. He looked at it and began to cry uncontrollably into it. After a few moments the door to his attic room opened. He slowly looked up from his pillow and at the doorway there stood a woman. She had beautiful dark brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and ruby red lips. She was in her late twenties, but she felt, physically and mentally, as though she was fifty years old.

"M-Mama?" sniffed the boy. By now he had tossed the pillow aside and was staring intently at the woman.

"Yes, Erik." said the woman as gently as she could manage.

"M-Mama!" cried Erik running to his mother. He did not notice her look of disgust as he forced himself into her arms. She tentatively stroked his hair; wishing only that this moment would pass as quickly as it came.

"Mama…I'm sorry!" he sobbed, "I'm so sorry…"

"Hush now, Erik," said his mother as calmly as she was able, "I will forgive you…but you may never ask me about that again. Understood?"

Erik was as silent as the grave. He had finally stopped sobbing, and was now contemplating what he was just told.

"But, Mama," he said glancing up at her, "I just wanted two kisses…everyone else can have them. Wh-"

"You must not ask me that ever again!" cried his mother as she pushed him away, "You stupid child! You will obey me! You will never ask that again! Do you hear me?"

Erik backed against the wall and did not say anything. He had begun to sob again, quietly.

"Answer me!" shouted his mother.

At that moment the door was thrown open and another woman stepped angrily into the room. This woman looked very plain. She had brown hair pulled tightly into a bun. Her eyes had no sparkle or luster. She was his mother's dearest friend and advisor. Erik's mother and this woman had met at the convent where both attended school. Fortunately, although she did not have a beautiful exterior, this plain woman had a heart of gold... and a steel will.

"Madeline!" she cried, "What have you done to the poor boy?" Madeline did not answer but continued to stare hatefully at her son.

"Oh Erik!" cried the woman, "Come here…come with me. I'll make you some tea."

"Keep away from him, Diane," said Madeline icily, "he is my child and I will do what I wish with him."

"Madeline," pleaded Diane, "He has been through enough!"

"M-Mama…" whimpered Erik, "Can I k-know w-why I c-can't have t-two kisses…" At that Madeline took her son by the shoulders and shook him violently.

"Madeline, STOP!" screamed Diane, "STOP!"

"NO, Diane!" screamed Madeline, "He wants to know why…dammit he'll know why!"

Madeline then took her son by the collar and dragged him to her room. Once inside, she pushed him to the face of the mirror, the only one in the house.

"Look at it!" she hissed, "Look upon your face! Your horrible face! This is why you will never be the same as everyone else! You are a MONSTER!"

Erik stared horrified in front of the mirror. He had not heard a word his mother had said. Suddenly he let out a cry of rage and fear, and began to bang his fists on the mirror. Seeing her son like this, Madeline suddenly felt such great pity for him and guilt for her own actions. She threw her arms around Erik as he struggled to get free.

"Stop, Erik!" she cried desperately, "You are bleeding! Please stop!" Madeline tightened her grip on her son.

"Let go of me!" screamed Erik. He freed himself from his mother's grasp and pummeled the mirror ever harder. Madeline backed against the wall and sank to the ground, helplessly. She stared at Erik, frighteningly. "This child is insane…" she thought. At that moment, Diane burst into the room. She looked pathetically at Madeline, and motioned for her to help her son. Madeleine did not glance at Diane or Erik. She sat silently in the corner; her head in her hands. Diane shook her head and turned back to Erik. She closed her eyes and flinched in fear as she saw his face. But she plucked up her courage.

"Erik!" she cried as loudly as possible, "Erik, STOP!" She ran to the boy and pulled him into a tight embrace. Erik ̶ too exhausted to continue ̶ stopped struggling and began to sob in to Diane's shoulder.

"M-Mademo-iselle L-Larian!" he sobbed.

"Shh…Erik," cooed Diane, "Everything will be alright…" She was now rocking Erik back and forth, gently. After a few moments she remembered his poor hands.

"Erik, show me your hands, dear," cooed Diane gently. She turned Erik a bit so that she could have a closer look. She then gently took Erik's hands in hers. She gasped in surprise, for Erik's hands were covered with lacerations, pieces of glass, and blood. As she was examining his hands, Erik winced and whimpered in pain.

"Hush, Erik," she whispered gently, "You will be alright." She quickly turned to his mother.

"Get bandages, Madeline," she said icily, "now!" Madeline stared blankly at her friend, then stood up and went out the door.

When Madeline returned, she carried bandages, a bowl of water, and a soft towel. Madeline entered the room and saw Diane gently taking out the pieces of glass from her son's hands. She could see Erik wincing and whimpering in pain again. Diane looked up and motioned for her to bring the supplies to her. Madeline obliged and helped Diane dress her son's wounds.

Madeline had never felt guiltier in her entire life, until this moment. She lifted her eyes to her son and as she did so her guilty conscience was revealed as well. She and Erik made eye contact. He looked at her with his gray-blue eyes that were full of pity, pain, and love; she returned his stare with a look of guilt, sorrow, and a touch of love. Erik's eyes softened and Madeline hoped, against her will, that he had forgiven her.

**Three Months Later…**

Erik was panting heavily. Fear and loneliness filled his mind and heart.

"Where am I?" he thought, frightened. He had run away from home almost three weeks ago. He was so afraid and looked everywhere for shelter. As he ran blindly through the forests of France he remembered his last words to his mother…

"You never loved me!" he had cried as tears streamed down his face, "I never want to see you again! Adieu, Mother!"

He had then run out of the house, never to return. He had hated her deeply during that moment. Now as he frantically searched for a place to feel safe, he missed her more than ever.

"I'm sorry, Mama," he whispered to the wind, "I'm so sorry…"

In the distance, a large fire glowed brightly. He ran towards it with a purpose…the purpose to survive. He knew that he was on his own, now and forevermore.

**1875, Fifteen Years Later…**

For fifteen long years, Erik wandered through Europe looking for a place to call his own…and to find one who would love and care for him. When he was around seven years old, he finally ended up in Belgium. He then began working as a ventriloquist for a group of gypsies. Then when he reached the age of fifteen he traveled to Persia where he met Nadir, the head of the Persian police force. He was brought to the palace and the shah trained him in torture and murder. He learned to wield the Punjab Lasso, a noose, with more skill than any on this earth. He also became the main attraction for the shah's parties and for the princess, Jasminia. He would kill men ̶ many who wanted death or were to be executed ̶ to entertain the royal family. After a year, the princess became bored with his entertainment and framed him for murder.

He was to be executed the next day, but Nadir ̶ who had become his loyal friend ̶ helped him escape from death. Erik escaped when Nadir placed his clothes on the body of a hanged man; the body was badly mutilated on the face, giving the appearance of Erik's. When the palace guards came to Erik's quarters, they found the dead man in his place. Erik then returned to Belgium. During his time in Persia, he had become extremely vulnerable and easily succumbed to black, violent moods. When these moods occurred, Erik became extremely dangerous. He had killed more men than any executioner when experiencing these foul moods.

To send them away, he began to take morphine. He welcomed the shining needle with the greatest pleasure. It gave him a place to escape, it was a place where music would fully consume him and he would feel peace. He soon became dangerously addicted to it. Nadir was often frightened for his health. He knew the deadly effects of morphine addiction and he kept a constant eye on his friend.

Erik finally tired of Belgium and decided to return to his home country of France. Four months later, he found himself roaming the streets of Paris reminiscing on his past. When he reached the rural areas of the city, he was filled with emotion. He looked at the sight before him and silent tears fell beneath the mask. Although his childhood was desolate and spiritually challenging, he could not even imagine what these families had been through. He longed to help, but he knew that they would chase him away; urchins were very protective of their homes – what little there was – and they would chase him until they had a chance to kill. Soon, he could no longer bear to look so he continued down the cobblestone street.

As he turned onto the Rue Scribe side, his eyes widened in surprise; what he saw before him made his heart stop. Before him stood a large, beautiful marble building; it was half completed, for he could see the wooden skeleton of the far side of the building. He continued to stare mesmerized by the sight, then a voice from the building site yelled to him.

"Can I help you, Monsieur?"

Erik stared straight ahead as the dark shadow of a man approached him. Erik's heart began to race for he was afraid of what the man might think of the mask. Surely, word had reached Paris of the murders he had committed through the years. "The mysterious masked man who killed to please the insane, murderous need of the Persian princess, Jasminia."

The man finally reached the spot where Erik stood and he stopped in his tracks. This man was very young ̶ barely in his twenties; younger than himself ̶ with jet black hair, dark brown eyes, a tan complexion, and a warm smile. Erik stiffened and waited for the man to run away in fear. The man finally came to his senses, smiled, and offered Erik a hand. Taken aback, Erik looked between the extended hand and its owner. After a few moments, he tensely shook the man's hand; the man then asked,

"Can I help you with anything, Monsieur?"

Erik stared at the man, pondering what he should say. Suddenly, he asked,

"What is this building?"

"It is the new Paris Opera House, Monsieur," replied the man, "the Opera Populaire."

"What is your name, boy?" asked Erik curiously.

"Jacques, Monsieur," replied the man, "Jacques de Laoine."

"Enchante, M. Laoine," said Erik warmly. He liked this young man.

"Enchante, M. --?" asked Jacques curiously.

"Erik," replied Erik, "Erik Laroche."

"Enchante, M. Laroche," said Jacques, "and please, just call me Jacques. M. Laoine makes me sound as old as my father." He laughed heartily, and amazingly Erik laughed as well. This was the first time he laughed in many years.

Jacques then took Erik back to the building site where he met the architect of the Opera house, Charles Garnier. At first, Garnier was surprised at the sight of the mask, but he soon got used to the sight of it. As the months went by, after their first meeting, Garnier and Erik became very good friends. They would spend many hours together, drinking in Garnier's parlor, and they would discuss the plans for the Opera or the latest news in Paris. The Germans were beginning to rage war against the French government. In a panic, the government was gathering as much troops for the army as possible; this meant that money was being used to supply the army. Many Parisians were now starving, and were using desperate measures to survive. In the windows of the most beautiful shops they were now selling the meat of cats and dogs. Not many were too disgusted to buy and eat the meat to survive. Erik and Garnier were disgusted with the news and would not converse with those who would sink so low.

For many years, Erik had begged Garnier's permission to build his own section of the Opera house–underground. Then in June 1878, Erik earned Garnier's permission. Underneath the great towering building that stood like a beautiful marble giant in the light, one of Erik's greatest works began.

After many months of tireless designing and building, Erik's greatest architectural work was completed. Underneath the Opera Populaire, he had built a shrine ̶ **his**shrine ̶ to music. There was a subterranean lake beneath the building and his lair was built on the farthest shore of the lake. It was unique in every possible way; the castle of his imagination where he planned to spend the rest of his life in solitude.

Erik's lair was illuminated with thousands of specifically placed candles ̶ they gave off sweet incense that filled the entire lair. The once bare rock walls were now covered with intricate carvings of gargoyles and roses that cast eerie shadows in the dim candlelight. In a small cavern on the left side of the lair, Erik placed a large antique desk; each drawer filled with blood-red ink, black quill pens, and the best pieces of parchment. Over the chair of the desk, his black silk cape was elegantly draped. The walls in this cavern were covered with numerous sketches of the Opera. In another cavern on the far right of the lair, Erik carved a flight of stone stairs. The flight led to a beautiful, somber room ̶ his bedroom. In the room, the walls were covered with black and red velvet curtains; a large bronze bed ̶ in the shape of a phoenix stood in the middle. The bed was covered in red velvet sheets and pillows. Above the bed a there hung a large golden ring. The ring was covered with large black lace curtains; they could be lowered by the pull of a tasseled rope nearby. Also near the bed, was a music box ̶ the most precious possession Erik carried with him.

The music box was quite unique. A monkey wearing Persian robes (to commemorate his dear friend, Nadir) played the cymbals. It sat on a beautiful barrel organ and played a jolly tune. Erik soon created the words to this tune; it goes something like this:

**_Masquerade, paper faces on parade_**

**_Masquerade, hide your face so the_**

**_World will never find_**

**_You…_**

In the center of the lair, there stood a beautiful brass organ. Erik had ferried it laboriously and patiently across his lake and played it often. He had also ferried all of his mother's furniture across the lake after her house was sold. She had gone to live with Mademoiselle Larian after her health began to fail. He also created a second bedroom in his humble abode, but he did not fully understand the reason why. In this bedroom, he placed his mother's bed and its own bathroom. The room was furnished with light pink curtains and vases filled with silk roses. Everything in the bathroom ̶ from the tub to the sink ̶ was made of pure rose colored marble.

Erik kept close friendships with Nadir, Garnier, and of course, Jacques de Laione. His friendship with Jacques was strong and before long, the two became very close. Erik, as any human would, needed clothes, food, and money which he could not obtain for fear of being discovered. So Jacques brought Erik all of his necessary needs, without any complications. The two men also told each other about their relationships and what they were working on. They trusted each other completely and when one was in trouble, the other was always there to help.

Erik lived peacefully and fully contented in his solitude for three years. He would make daily rounds around the Opera, checking all doors, chandeliers, and sets for flaws. One day, in 1881, he was sitting in his box ̶ Box Five ̶ when two young girls ̶ around the age of eighteen ̶ walked onto the stage. One was blonde ̶ he recognized her as Mme. Giry's daughter, Meg ̶ and the other was a brunette; she was the most beautiful woman Erik had ever seen. After a few moments, she began to sing.

**_Stars shine brightly in the night,_**

**_The moon smiles upon me,_**

**_ Love surrounds you and me…_**

**_ We dance in the moonlight,_**

**_You tell me good-bye…_**

**_ Love shows me the way..._**

Erik was stunned. She sang beautifully, but had no spirit. This girl sang totally without feeling…it was as though she had no heart to sing…but with the proper guidance…no…he would not put himself in such a position; he would only be caused more pain. But soon enough, he fell deeply in love with Christine Daae, and would do anything to bring her to him.

Christine had been told stories ̶ by her father ̶ about an "Angel of Music" that would help her become _une etolie_, a star. Erik became that "Angel" and he began to teach Mademoiselle Daae. She did become a star, with his guidance, and he brought her to his secret lair, intending to keep her there…forever. When he brought her to the lair, he sang to her and showed her a beautiful wax model of herself. This model was dressed in a wedding dress he designed for her. Unfortunately, she fainted when she saw it and Erik gently laid her in the second bedroom. The next day ̶ in an act of insatiable curiosity ̶ Christine removed his mask. In a rage, he threw her to the ground and screamed at her. Then he angrily forced her too look at him, at his horrible, monstrosity of a face. He soon calmed, but he had frightened her deeply and she confided in her childhood sweetheart ̶ and patron of the Opera ̶ Vicomte Raoul de Chagny.

Raoul was a handsome, naïve young man. He was two years older than Christine with blonde hair that reached his broad shoulders. He had ocean blue eyes and a winning smile. He was also deeply in love with Christine, which was unknown to Erik, and would do anything to protect her. She told him everything…she told him about what she had seen while she was with Erik.

The night she told him everything, Raoul confessed his love for her; Christine also confessed that she had the same feelings for him. They kissed on the roof of the Opera, on the majestic roof of Erik's wonder; as the Phantom of the Opera watched in pained silence behind the giant statues that graced the rooftop. Christine had carried with her **his** rose ̶ a rose tied with a black ribbon ̶ when she and Raoul ascended onto the rooftop. Christine carried the symbol of Erik's love with her, and she threw it carelessly to the side as Raoul's charm overcame her.

After the couple left, Erik emerged from the shadows. He walked over to the place where the rose landed and gently plucked it from the ground. For a few moments, his grief kept him silent. When he could no longer hold back his emotion, he began a heartbreaking song.

**_I gave you my music…_**

**_ Made your song take wing._**

**_ And now how you've repaid me…_**

**_ Denied me and betrayed me…_**

**_ He was bound to love you…_**

**_ When he heard you sing!_**

**_ Christine…_**

He cried as the sound of their voices carried through the open windows…

**_Say you'll share with me_**

**_One love, one lifetime…_**

**_ Say the word and I will follow_**

**_ You…_**

**_ Share each day with me,_**

**_ Each night, each morning… _**

****

**_ Love me, that's all I ask _**

**_Of you…_**

The second declaration of their love sent a deadly dagger through Erik's fragile heart. He could not hold the immense amount of emotion this sent through him. Hate, revenge, and fear surged through his veins as he made his deadly vow.

**_You will curse the day you_**

**_Did not do…_**

**_ ALL THAT THE PHANTOM ASKED_**

**_ OF YOU!_**

He climbed to the top of the tallest statue and on the roof of the world he declared this vow. He would kill if necessary, now, to have Christine with him; Raoul de Changy had signed his own death warrant and sealed his fate.

Over the next few weeks, Erik worked ceaselessly and tirelessly on his maximum opus, the opera score that consumed his days, _Don Juan Triumphant. _This would be the ultimate trap for Christine. He would use this to lure Christine back to him, and it would be forever.

When the show began, Piangi –Carlotta's (the Prima Donna) husband ̶ was Don Juan. Christine played the innocent servant girl, Amnita. As the biggest musical number of the opera began, Piangi seemed to disappear and a new actor took his place. Christine's eyes widened in fear, this man was the Phantom of the Opera, Erik. As the show progressed, Erik tried to lure Christine with his voice, but she tricked him. As they met at the bridge, Erik confessed his true love to her and placed his sapphire ring on her wedding finger. He stared lovingly into her eyes, the caramel-colored eyes that made him breathless…

**_Say you'll share with me_**

**_One love, one lifetime…_**

**_Lead me, save me from my solitude…_**

**_Say you want me with you_**

**_Here beside you, now and forever…_**

**_Anywhere you go, let me go too…_**

**_Christine, that's all I ask of y-_**

In response, she gave him a look of pure guilt ̶ which he ignored ̶ and she ripped off the black mask. She dropped it by her side as she saw the hurt look in his gray-blue eyes. He looked at her with such sadness that she immediately wanted to throw herself off the bridge.

In Box Five, Raoul had looked on at the show with tears streaming down his face. The monster truly loved Christine…and she loves him? He pondered over this for a moment… until… something unimaginable occurred. He watched in horror as Erik grabbed Christine by the waist and fell through a trapdoor into darkness. The moment they disappeared, the grand chandelier in the house came crashing down! To save himself, Raoul jumped from the balcony, slid down a rope, and immediately ran to find Mme. Giry back stage. He knew that the old woman knew everything about Erik's whereabouts and in this time of chaos, he knew she would confess.

"Madame," Raoul began frantically, "where did Erik take her?"

Madame Giry was silent. She was unsure about telling this man who had broken the heart of her dear friend.

"Please, Madame," he pleaded, "I don't want to hurt him, but Christine means the world to me. Please tell me!" That last bit was a lie…if he found Erik he wanted to strangle him with his own bare hands!

"Alright, Monsieur," Mme. Giry sighed at last, "I will take you to him, but remember to keep your hand at the level of your eyes!" At that Mme. Giry and Raoul raced through the burning Opera to the cellars; to the entrance to Erik's underground world…

"This is far as I dare go, Monsieur," said Mme. Giry as they reached the first flight of stairs to the cellar. "Merci, Madame," breathed Raoul. His, Christine's, and Erik's fates would be decided…very soon…very soon indeed.

As Raoul descended to the unknown darkness, he was suddenly stopped by a strange man. This man was none other than Nadir ̶ one of Erik's closest friends. Nadir wore a traditional Persian cap, a dark brown cloak, and was wearing his best dress suit.

"Ah! Monsieur de Changy," he said sarcastically in his heavily accented French, "We meet at last." He took an intimidating step toward the Vicomte.

"W-who a-are you?" stuttered Raoul. Fear, cold and strong, gripped his heart.

"Why, I am the Persian," replied Nadir using the name he had been dubbed while at the Opera, "or, if you prefer, Nadir; at your service."

"What do you want from me?" asked Raoul. He was still unsure about what to make of this mysterious man.

"You want to find Erik," began the Persian, "and I know where he can be found."

"If you help me, Nadir," said Raoul uneasily, "What is your benefit? What will you receive from this bargain?"

"I only want to help you," said Nadir, "and I only want my friend to finally find happiness in the world." He was facing Raoul, but his voice sounded far-away and his glance distant. "Is there a problem with wanting that for one who has never known true happiness?"

"No," replied Raoul with some thought, "No not at all."

Erik was deep in thought. Tonight was the night…Christine would be with him forever. Nothing would stop him! His mask was still torn away and his corpse-like face was visible. A faint rustling noise near him caused him to turn. Christine stood before him in the wedding dress he had designed specifically for her. She looked magnificent; the dress became her in every way ̶ the skirts fell gracefully around her pale ankles, the silk sleeves fell gracefully around her white arms, and her caramel hair fell softly across her elegant shoulders. Erik was speechless, so Christine took this opportunity to insult him.

"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?" she told him icily, "Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?" She glared at him so coldly that Erik felt a pang of guilt in his heart.

"That fate which condemns me, to wallow in blood," he began in the same icy tone, "has also denied me" ̶ his voice softened as he reached a tentative hand towards her ̶ "the joys of the flesh." In disgust, Christine turned her head ruefully away; thus, Erik's hand became entangled in her silky hair. He sighed and turned to the model next to him and took the veil from the model. He placed it upon Christine's head.

"It's this wretched face!" he cried, "It tears us apart; poisons our love."

"Erik…" Christine sighed, "It's not your face…it's…your soul that is truly distorted." She looked up at her mentor, her friend, and her Angel with a sad glance; she then gently placed the veil upon the organ. He was staring into the distance, contemplating her words. Were they to help him? Or were they to deeply insult him? He felt neither rage nor some small fleck of happiness. He turned to his Angel once again and did nothing but stare at her.

Then Erik and Christine heard a dull thud in the next room. A smirk crossed Erik's face. That room was always locked…and for good reason ̶ it was his torture chamber…

Raoul tightened his grip on the pistol in his hand. He searched desperately for the Persian in the darkness. They had walked through the many mazes of the Opera cellars to reach Erik's lair. They had jumped through a trapdoor into complete darkness and were now separated. Suddenly, a bright light illuminated the entire room. Raoul could now see the Persian who was directly in front of him; both of them turned there heads and gasped at what they saw. They were in the center of a room made entirely of mirrors. Nadir looked up and gestured for Raoul to do the same. What they saw was a small window; in the window they saw the shadows of Erik and Christine.

"Christine!" screamed Raoul before Nadir could tell him to do otherwise.

"Raoul!" growled Nadir as he pulled the frantic Vicomte toward him, "You idiot! Do you know what you've done! Now we're done for!" He shook his head, why in the world did he help the fop in the first place?

"Christine!" Raoul's frantic cry reached the ears of Erik and Christine. Erik's rage began to grow and Christine's hope blossomed. With a growl, Erik replaced his fallen with his white porcelain mask, flipped a switch on the wall and laughed cruelly as the torture chamber began to grow warmer and warmer.

"Ah! Bonjour, Vicomte!" he sneered through the window putting his ventriloquism to work, "So nice of you to join us. I was wondering if you'd ever arrive! "

In the chamber, Raoul and the Persian looked around blindly for the source of Erik's voice. It seemed to be everywhere at once; causing the two men to become even more anxious. They also noticed that it was getting warmer by the minute. Raoul sensed that Nadir was becoming increasingly nervous, but ignored it. He began to walk around, hastily looking for any way to escape from this prison of glass. But that was the reason Nadir was worried, the only way out of this nightmare…was through the ultimate crime…suicide.

Christine's fear returned with more force than before. Erik had just told her to make an impossible choice. To choose between himself or Raoul. If she chose Raoul, Raoul and whoever was with him would die a horrible death. If she chose Erik, she would marry him and Raoul would go free…but she could never see him again. Her heart was gripped with anger, frustration, sadness, terror, and lastly, love. Love for the two men she could never bear to choose between. She turned to Erik with a pleading, frightened look in her caramel colored eyes. When Erik's eyes met hers, he snickered; everything was going according to plan, soon her precious Raoul would be dead and he would receive his prize…the hand of his Angel. He could see the desperate look in her eyes and his heart softened a tiny bit.

"Now he will know what it is like…" Erik whispered almost inaudibly, "to have the one you love taken away…"

"W-What?" asked Christine softly, "Erik…I-" She stopped herself when she saw Erik turn to her. The look in his eyes would have reduced the strongest man to tears. Erik's grayish-blue eyes were brimming with tears he would not shed, for her sake, and the once mysterious, confident, safe looking eyes became lost, desolate, and desperate. She finally understood the magnitude of Erik's heartache and loneliness; she understood why he wanted her with him so badly, so much that he would even kill to have her with him…she finally knew what choice to make…

"Nadir!" Raoul's cry echoed through the mirror-lined room. The room had finally reached a temperature of about one hundred degrees and the men were pacing about it with their dress coats and jackets thrown carelessly to the side.

"What is it now, Monsieur Vicomte?" asked Nadir irritably; he was still mentally kicking himself for helping Raoul. He had been trying to find the small mechanism he knew would turn everything off, the switch that would save their lives.

"Have you found the switch yet?" was the unusually calm, distant reply. Raoul was now lying on his back, his look distant for his mind was elsewhere. Nadir turned sharply and his eyes widened in horror and understanding. He had caught the tone in which Raoul had answered and understood that the Vicomte was on the verge of madness. The stifling heat had finally gone to the fop's brain and if they didn't find a way out soon…the end was near for both of them…

A million thoughts were running through the head of Christine Daae as she slowly walked towards Erik.

"I must be insane," she thought angrily, "this man…this _thing_ wants to kill Raoul and take me…" At that moment another voice, one with a more gentle tone, popped into her head.

"He loves you, Christine…more than I believe Raoul ever will. You are doing the right thing. You will save Raoul and you will be able to help Erik through this ordeal…He loves you more than life itself…" That last bit unnerved her a little so the first voice began to contradict the second.

"But what about me! What will we do in the clutches of that monster…" It let the thought trail. Christine had finally reached Erik's side.

"I must do this…for all our sakes," she thought confidently. Then she gently took the wedding veil from its place on the organ. She placed it upon her head and lowered the veil over her face. It was time…

Erik paced anxiously back and forth waiting for Christine's decision. He did not want to hurt her, he never wanted to; but he needed her so badly. He knew that he could not live without her; he would wither away through the tortured years…

He turned suddenly when he heard footsteps behind him. He was very surprised to see Christine approaching him with the veil covering her pale face. His breath left him as she stopped in front of him and placed her hands on his dress coat. He looked at her in total disbelief as she allowed him to lift the veil. He was shocked as he looked at her once flawless face; now there were dark circles underneath her eyes, her caramel eyes were red and bloodshot, and her face was streaked with the many tears she had shed the past few days. At once, Erik felt so guilty that his hands began to shake; causing Christine to grab them to stop the trembling of the veil. The feeling of her hands on his caused Erik to take a shuddering deep breath.

"Christine…" he whispered almost inaudibly.

"Erik…I finally understand…" she whispered in response, "Take me…teach me…"

Then she reached for Erik's mask and gently removed his hands when he tried to hold the mask in place. She stared into the monstrous face with nothing but love and pity in her eyes. Tears welled up in both of their eyes as their faces drew closer. When they were but a breath apart, they closed their eyes slowly. When their lips met in a passionate kiss, both tasted the salt of tears, but neither knew whose they were. The kiss intensified as the moments extended into an infinity. Christine raised her hand and placed it on Erik's sunken cheek and caressed it with love. Then they reluctantly parted and they held each other close. Erik placed his hand on Christine's soft cheek as a few more tears escaped from under his closed eyes. Christine gently wiped the tears away.

"Take me, Erik…" she whispered still breathless from the intensity of what they had shared.

"No…I cannot," he told her with sorrow, "You do not deserve a monster such as I…"

"But ̶" she looked him in the eye and stopped when she saw the expression present in his mysterious eyes.

"You have already given me all of the happiness I could have ever wanted…" he whispered with love. He meant it from the bottom of his heart and Christine saw the meaning in his eyes.

"Then what shall we do?" she leaned her head on his chest. She couldn't understand, she was ready to go with him, ready to leave Raoul, she had made her choice. She was unprepared when Erik painfully and sorrowfully uttered his response.

"You will return with the Vicomte…and marry him…"

Raoul and Nadir were now lying side by side on the burning floor of the torture chamber. Nadir had failed to find the switch and now he was at the verge of madness. Raoul was staring off into space, being as quiet as a mouse. He was daydreaming about his and Christine's wedding, knowing that he would not live to see it. Nadir was trying hard to not give into the madness, but he was making futile attempts. He began to see mirages of desert oasises and of food.

When both men believed that the end had come, suddenly a gigantic gust of cold air entered the chamber. Both men were rejuvenated instantly and gathered enough strength in a few minutes to jump to their feet and draw their guns. They instinctively pointed the weapons at the doorway where two shadows were barely visible. They were about to fire when a voice cried," NO!" The men frantically searched for the voice and finally rested their eyes upon the now advancing shadows. They were surprised to find Christine, who emerged first, unharmed and free from Erik's clutches. Raoul immediately ran to her and held her in a warm embrace. He felt her utter shuttering sobs and quickly questioned her. She did not answer but instead turned and walked back towards the shadows. Raoul tried to run after her but Nadir held him back with a firm grip. Raoul could only utter a cry of pure frustration as he saw Christine return with Erik. He was trailing behind her, his hand in hers, with tears coursing furiously down his sunken cheeks.

Christine stopped in front of Raoul and turned her attention back to Erik. "No…she's chosen the monster…" thought Raoul sadly. His heart-ached with sorrow and wanted nothing more then to strangle Erik where he stood! He watched in anger as Christine took Erik's hand and led him to her side. Seeing Erik's tears barely made a difference to him, it just made him more frustrated. He was shocked as he saw Christine grasp Erik's hand with conviction.

"Monsieur Vicomte," whispered Erik as he tried to stop the flow of his tears.

"Monster!" Raoul replied coldly. His hands tightened into fists and he prepared to strike Erik.

"Please forgive the circumstances in which you arrived," Erik whispered.

"Let her go, monster!" Raoul roared. He did not want to hear any of Erik's apologies; he only focused on trying to get Christine away.

"RAOUL!" Christine cried. Tears were now coursing down her cheeks as she continued to grasp Erik with all her might. She scowled at Raoul as he looked on with total shock.

"What has he done to you, Christine?" Raoul asked, "Have you forgotten where your heart truly belongs?" She turned him for a fleeting moment with a desperate look in her eyes. Then she turned her attention back to Erik. With tears in his eyes, Erik took Christine's hand in his and kissed it. He looked into her eyes, hoping that she knew that he would love her until the end of time. He then walked over to Raoul, with Christine trailing behind, and stared him in the eye.

"Monsieur Vicomte, your hand please," said he. Reluctantly, Raoul placed his hand in Erik's skeletal fingers. The fop shuddered at the deathly cold that lingered on Erik's fingers. He glared at Erik only wishing whatever came next happened quickly so that he could rescue Christine.

Erik took the hands of Raoul and Christine and closed them around each other. Christine and Raoul looked at each other in surprise then turned their gazes to Erik. They both felt the tears that were falling over their joined hands and knew they came from Erik.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Christine," he said, "You were the last person in the world I would harm."

"Erik…" she whispered, tears now falling from her eyes and joining Erik's tears.

"Since I can't give you away at a church, I will do it now." He smiled sadly at the couple, "Raoul, please take care of her. I would also be very glad if you would care to give me an invitation to the wedding. I collect invitations and such. I'm always invited but I can never go. Will you promise to come back, monsieur, to give me my invitation? And I wonder if it would also be permitted for me to kiss the bride on that occasion?" Raoul could only nod in agreement he would do anything to get Christine away from this monster.

"But Erik…" Christine began and stopped when she saw that Erik truly meant for her to go. Suddenly they all heard the distant sounds of drums and cries of "Track down this murder!" fear nestled in Erik's heart as he heard the voices get closer.

"Go! Go now!" Erik cried as he tore himself away from the couple and began to open the gate. He quickly ran to Nadir and told him to go through another secret passage that would lead him away from the Opera. Nadir quickly obliged, giving his friend a quick, curt nod before departing.

"Come, Christine, we must away!" cried Raoul. He desperately grabbed her hand and led her to the gondola.

"Swear to me now, never to tell," Erik begged them, "the secret you know of the Angel in Hell!" He would be killed if anyone knew that he was still alive. The voices were now merely a few yards away. "Go! Go now and leave me!" he cried. He then ran back into his bedroom and sobbed. Christine will never return and he would be alone forever. He turned to his music box; the only friend that had stayed with him through all the years. He wound it up and listened to the song. Soon enough he began to sing.

**_Masquerade, paper faces on parade_**

**_Masquerade, hide your face so the_**

**_World will never find_**

**_You…_**

By the end of the song, tears were streaming down his face. He heard a rustling noise near the door of his room and he turned to see Christine standing there. He quickly stood and tried to fix his dress coat. He dried his tears and walked up to her anxiously. She stared at him for a moment then lifted her hand, the hand that held his ring. She gently took off the ring while Erik looked on in disbelief. She glanced at the ring then kissed the dark blue sapphire; it always made her think of Erik's eyes…

She held out the ring to Erik, her other hand over her heart. He took the ring and her hand in his and gently pushed it back to her.

"No. You keep it. As my wedding gift to you…"

"Erik ̶"

"Please, my Angel, take it…it's yours…"

"Erik, I cannot except this. If I am to be Raoul's wife…then I cannot have something of yours." She spread her arms helplessly. "He would leave me and destroy the ring…and you…"

"But, Christine…"

"I'm so sorry…" She stared him in the eye, hoping he saw the meaning of her stare. He did. He knew what to do next. He took the ring from her and replaced it on his pinky finger. Then he looked deeply into her eyes, seeing her heart. For the last time, he confessed his love for Christine. He desperately wanted her to know that he would love her until the end of time.

**_Christine, I love you…_**

At that, Christine ran out of the room with her hands over her face. Erik's heart burned with sorrow as he saw Christine run away. He walked out of the room and watched the couple leave through the gate. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Raoul stop rowing the gondola, and kneeled next to his new bride. His heart pained him, more than words can express, as he saw his lips close over hers. As the gondola drifted out of sight, Erik could hear the voices of the police and other Opera staff coming closer to him. He ran to a giant mirror and broke it, revealing a secret passageway. He ran down the passageway hearing those from the Opera and the police destroy the only place he truly called home…

Many months after his last encounter with Raoul and Christine, Erik had finally rebuilt his mutilated home with Nadir's help. He anxiously awaited the day in which Christine would return to give him his wedding invitation. They never returned to the Opera Populaire…

Erik recalled all of his past and every time he saw Christine in his mind's eye, he felt a pang in his heart. She had hurt him deeply and he missed her so. Then his thoughts turned to the girl in his dreams. His heart also felt a pang when he saw her. She had so much pain…he could see it in every move she had made; he wanted to take away all of her pain. He felt so connected to her; as if they had met before and were meant to be together for all time. He felt as if he knew her heart…

He chased away all thoughts of the girl and Christine as he finished getting dressed, donning his black silk cape and fedora, and crossed the lake. He needed to pay someone a visit, his old friend, Jacques de Laoine.


	9. The Fencing Lesson

**The Fencing Lesson**

Isabelle dressed quickly and grabbed her cloak from the chair it was resting on. As she was fastening it she heard a knock at her door. She was surprised to find Mr. Darcy himself at her door.

"Hello, Ms. Isabelle," he bowed, "May I come in?"

"Yes of course, Mr. Darcy." She showed him inside and took off her cloak.

"Let me just get to the point, Bella. You will not be going to Paris."

"What! What the hell are you talking about? You said that you would make all the arrangements!" His statement had caught her so off guard that she threw away all courtesy.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but the ship that was to carry you to Paris cast off five weeks ago."

"This can't be…I must get to Paris! My career, my studies…what will I do now?"

"I can arrange another for another ship to bring you to Paris, but it will take many months. This is the busiest season for the docks. I will see what I can do for you."

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam, I shouldn't have been so rude. Forgive me." Darcy inclined his head in approval. The rest of the afternoon went on with Darcy and Isabelle conversing over political matters, Elizabeth and the family's health, and what Isabelle planned to do with her studies. Suddenly an idea came to Darcy.

"Bella, would like to learn how to fence?" They had been discussing some of Isabelle's goals; fencing had been a star subject.

"You can teach me?" Isabelle asked excitedly. She had always wanted to know a bit about swordsmanship; her father would have taught her the year of her fourteenth birthday.

"It would be an honor to teach you." At that Darcy made a bow while Isabelle giggled with delight.

"When can we begin?" she asked eagerly. This new hobby would help her take her mind off getting to Paris so quickly.

"Tomorrow afternoon at one o'clock."

The next day Isabelle arrived at Pemberly manor early for her lesson. She was dressed in a white long sleeved blouse, brown trousers, and black boots ̶ Darcy's suggested attire ̶ as she made sure she was as comfortable as possible. She pulled her hair into a bun as Elizabeth met her at the door. Since Darcy was not present, both women decided to take a stroll through the garden. Linked arm in arm, Isabelle told Elizabeth all that had occurred since her last visit. Elizabeth was astonished when she heard of the dream.

"Who do you think it could be?" she eagerly asked.

"I don't know…I wish I did…"

"Oh come now, Bella! Use your imagination! Who do you think it could be?"

"I really don't know, Lizzy. I'm still too flustered about it to figure out who in the world that man could be."

"Well I for one know who it is."

"Oh really, Elizabeth Darcy! Then, pray tell, who could it be?" Isabelle's eyes were shining with glee.

"Your one true love, Bella. Your one true love." Isabelle was silent for a few moments as she contemplated Lizzy's words. _Her One True Love…_ It was a far-fetched theory that's for sure, but it held so much promise and hope that in her heart that a flame of hope was kindled.

"Do you really think so, Lizzy? My one _true love.._ It's quite unbelievable. I pick the worst kinds of men…" She paused for a moment thinking about David. At this, she hoped that the man in her dreams was amiable and kind; she did not want to repeat her experience with David. After all he did seem dashing enough even with the mask on. To her astonishment, she was not really concerned with what lay beneath the mask, but was more concerned with what lay in his heart.

Isabelle felt Lizzy stir beside her and turned her attention to her friend. Then she saw Fitzwilliam Darcy walking towards them, epee in hand. She saw Elizabeth blush at the sight of her husband. Isabelle smiled inside; her friend was lucky to have such a caring, kind husband.

"Are ready for your first lesson, Bella?" Darcy asked. He was spinning the sword in his hands.

"Ready as I'll ever be, Mr. Darcy." She said with a wide grin. She gently disengaged herself from Lizzy and walked over to Mr. Darcy. He offered his arm and she took it; he then led her to the fencing wing of the mansion.

Isabelle was surprised when she entered through the giant white doors of the fencing chamber. She looked on in awe at the skilled swordsmanship possessed by each who stood in the room. To one side, there was a competition and Isabelle looked on in astonishment as a young man defeated a much more experienced man with a swift jab to the heart. She continued to quietly observe the competition as four more experienced men were beaten by the young man. She was in admiration of his skill; Mr. Darcy looked on behind her and mentioned the man's name, James Grant.

"James Grant…" whispered Isabelle to herself. Suddenly it was the end of the match and James Grant approached them.

"Good work today, Grant!" praised Darcy.

"Thank you, sir," said James graciously. He made a small bow to Mr. Darcy then turned his attention onto Isabelle. Isabelle became breathless as James's eyes locked with hers. He was quite handsome. He had deep blue eyes, the color of the sea on a beautiful day, that seemed to burn deeply into her heart. He had tousled blond hair that ended just before his broad shoulders. He had strong features that suggested a rough yet gentleman-like personality. His voice was music to her ears as he greeted her.

"Ah! And who is this charming young lady, Darcy?"

"Isabelle, sir, Isabelle de Lon Craie," answered Isabelle as she swallowed her nervousness.

"Well then, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss de Lon Craie," he made her a small bow and took her hand in his, giving it a small kiss. Isabelle muttered a few words of greeting as she began to blush ferociously; James just chuckled.

"Well, Grant, Miss de Lon Craie and I must be off. She has her first lesson today."

"Well then, good luck to you, Miss de Lon Craie, and congratulations; for you are the first woman to ever train in this hallowed hall." He laughed heartily and gave a curt nod to them both before departing. Isabelle stared dreamily after him and kept whispering his name to herself.

"Bella? Bella!"

"Yes? Oh! I'm so sorry, Fitzwilliam…"

"Well, let's get started." At that, Darcy took out his epee and drew Isabelle to the sword rack at the corner of the room. He helped her pick a sword that was just right for her. Then they both walked to the sparing ring and began Isabelle's first lesson.

"Now, Bella, the key to fencing is to be relaxed. When you are attacking, the best way to approach it must be to take great care in your delivery. You never want to get hurt yourself…" Darcy continued into the rules and regulations of the sport. As his lecture came to an end, Isabelle was anxious to begin the actual swordplay. Darcy began to teach her the starting footwork and basic attacks.

"Do as I do, Bella," Darcy then began a series of complicated steps and motions. Isabelle did her best to follow every step and motion, but to no avail. On her first try she slipped and fell, dropping her sword. Darcy helped her up as she blushed from embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, Bella. It was hard for me at first as well. You will master it soon."

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I'm sorry for my clumsiness." She made a bow and smiled gratefully as Darcy gave her a friendly pat on the back.

"I believe we've done enough for today. Come with me and we shall find Elizabeth."

"Alright. Let's go." They returned Isabelle's sword to the rack and left the chamber muttering good-byes all the while to those in the room.

Isabelle and Fitzwilliam found Elizabeth sitting in the parlor talking with someone. They could not see who it was so they entered the room. Isabelle gasped in surprised when she saw who her friend was sitting with, James Grant.


End file.
